Flash Fiction Story 051: God is Indifferent and The App Needs An Update

I’m hungry. Yes, that much is certain. I am 25.6 percent hungrier than I was when I went to bed last night.

I looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to me. It blinked its harsh refrain at me. 8:00 AM. 8:00 AM. 8:00 AM.

It was still dark. Ugh. Why do we still put up with Daylight Saving Time? I got out of bed and headed for the kitchen.

Thud.

I’m not dumb. At least, I don’t think I’m that dumb, so I can’t quite figure out why—twice and in sudden succession—I felt compelled to walk into the brick wall that had inexplicably replaced my bedroom door. I suppose my mind wouldn’t allow itself to believe the wall was there when I smacked into it the first time.

It was hard to discount the possibility of it actually existing after the second impact.

Prone on the floor, I looked up at the red brick behemoth. All I could think about was every inch of ache throughout my body. Wondering how the brick wall had gotten there was the furthest thing from my mind. 

The pain subsided and my hunger hit 83%. I might have tried to ignore it, but the number indicating the percentage constantly floating above my head refused to let me forget.

I stumbled over to the night table and grabbed my cell phone. Surely this brick wall thing was a prank. Weirdly complex and still sort of bewildering, but somebody was playing a trick on me. My cousin did this. There was no other explanation. I can’t figure out how he got all that concrete in here without me waking up, but I’ve slept through even weirder things before, like the time my old roommate tried to set the house on fire and then died from too much woohoo.

Pop.

My phone had vanished into thin air. I sighed. This happened from time to time. It was so frustrating. Over the years, I’ve had any number of things disappearing suddenly. Recliners. TVs. More trampolines than I can count. One time an entire Turkey Dinner just blinked out of existence while I and my family watched.

My hunger reached 92%. I wondered how I was going to use the bathroom if I was going to be trapped in here forever. That was a problem for later. 

It might have been the slowly creeping delirium, but the wall was starting to remind me of the background of every comedy club in the 1990s. Didja ever notice that all of a sudden brick walls appear in your house, preventing you from escaping or getting any kind of food?

Wait.

I turned around and faced the window, pulling at the blinds.

The window was gone too. In its place… Well, in its place was nothing. Past the curtains, the Robin’s Egg Blue wallpaper just continued, as if I had been the crazy person this whole time for hanging drapes over smooth wall.

Why had God done this to me?

All I could feel, all I could think was the hunger.

I looked up once more and wailed to the ceiling. My weakened anger made incoherent noises out of my pleas. My hunger reached 100%, and all I could see was red. God had no response to my frantic pleas.

***

She closed the laptop.

This game needs an update, she thought. Walling off rooms until people die of hunger just isn’t as fun as it used to be. She wallowed, if only for a moment, in her boredom. She thought she might be hungry, but that might have meant she was really bored.

Art by Eris O’Reilly

Art by Eris O’Reilly